


Not Trying to be a Hero

by emmagnetised



Series: All The Little Lights [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Daredevil (TV), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daredevil - Freeform, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Gen, Multi, The Avengers Won, The Wyvern, Tony Stark's Sister, one shots, team fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmagnetised/pseuds/emmagnetised
Summary: Maggie opened her phone and texted Bucky:Hey, when you get back, how do you feel about joining me on a project here in Hell's Kitchen?His reply came almost instantly:I thought you didn't like the guy.She smiled and texted back:I don't know, I think he's growing on me.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Series: All The Little Lights [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305146
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So the Daredevil show got canceled a little while ago but I really loved it - this one shot might be confusing if you haven't seen it!

"No, Artemis, you are _not_ allowed in the trash can. Sorry."

The dark three-legged dog cast baleful eyes up at Maggie as she gently tugged her away from the overflowing trash can on the New York street. Maggie kept walking and Artemis followed, loping along with her distinctive gait.

"We should probably head home soon, miss," Maggie muttered to Artemis as she squinted up at the sky.

The sun was setting on New York City. Maggie didn't usually walk her dog around here, but Bucky was overseas with Steve at a World War II Veterans conference, Tony and Pepper were on a weekend getaway with Morgan, and Maggie had felt a hankering to visit the old Stark mansion. So she'd taken Artemis and they'd driven down the city this morning, Artemis lolling her tongue in the wind shearing by the open window.

"Where even are we," Maggie muttered, and Artemis looked around as if she could understand her. Maggie read the street signs. "Hells Kitchen... I think I know a short cut back to the mansion. This way girl!"

Maggie and Artemis cut across the quiet street then headed down a narrow laneway, heading south. Artemis nosed at backdoors and more trashcans, weaving back and forth in front of Maggie. Maggie watched the darkening sky and considered going down to Brooklyn tomorrow.

When the man stepped out from behind the side-alley and blocked Maggie's path, she stopped in her tracks.

The man wore a dark grey hoodie pulled low over his face, where a look of grim determination hung heavy on his brow. He looked bulky under the hoodie. A kitchen knife gleamed in his right hand.

He crowded closer, his brow lowered, and brandished the knife at her. "Wallet. Now." Artemis's hackles rose.

Maggie blinked. "Are you serious?"

The guy lurched forward, making Artemis growl, but Maggie made the hand gesture for _heel_ and Artemis reluctantly backed up.

"Just give me your fucking wallet!" the guy gritted out, edging closer to Maggie. His whole body was tense with coiled aggression and his eyes flicked from her face to her jeans pockets.

Maggie cocked an eyebrow. "Not to be an asshole about this or anything, but do you know who I am?"

"I don't give a _fuck_ , lady."

Artemis growled again, and the guy lowered his stance and pointed his knife at her. The sky was almost completely dark now, but the streetlights hadn't come on yet.

Maggie gently nudged Artemis behind her. "Your stance is terrible-"

"Hand over the money or you'll see how this feels!" he growled, waving the knife at her.

Maggie cocked her head and eyed the guy. He was big, sure, and there was real venom in his voice, but she could see a spark of fear in his eyes - he didn't know what to make of her calm, or her dog. Maggie had never known what it was like to be so desperate for money that she had to cut it out of other people.

She sighed. "Alright. You're an asshole. I'll give you some money, but-" as she reached for her wallet, a shadow dropped out of the sky.

Not a shadow - a man. A man wearing all black, reinforced gloves on his hands and a black cowl over the top half of his face. Maggie's mouth dropped open as the man jumped directly on her mugger's wrist, knocking the knife out of his hand. He landed, cat-like, and spun to slam his gloved fist into the mugger's jaw.

The mugger dropped like a sack of bricks to the pavement, out cold.

Maggie stared from the unconscious man to the shadow-man, who had already turned as if to run down the side-alley. Artemis had sat obediently beside Maggie throughout the ordeal, watching interestedly.

" _Hey_ , what the hell?" she finally spat out.

The man cocked his head without looking back at her. Maggie's brain caught up, and she suddenly realized that she'd seen a picture of this guy before. He was a local vigilante, like Peter. He had a name… _Daredevil._ "You're welcome," Daredevil said in a low voice.

"I already agreed to give the guy my money!"

Daredevil hesitated. "You were being _mugged_ ," he said, slowly, as if she didn't get it.

"No shit, but that guy needs help. Not a beating."

Daredevil bowed his head a little further into the darkness of the alleyway. Maggie thought he was going to reply, but then he flicked out a pair of batons, flung one of them up the nearby fire escape, then used the pulley-cord attached to spring upward. He parkoured up the side of the building, unerringly fast, before disappearing over the lip of the roof.

Maggie squinted upwards. She could chase him, but she wanted to make sure her mugger got an ambulance, and she couldn't leave Artemis. She looked down at the dog.

"That was weird."

Artemis looked back up at her, one ear flopped inside out.  
  


Once the ambulance Maggie had called rolled up to pick up the still-unconscious mugger, Maggie continued her walk back to the mansion. She was technically fleeing the scene of a crime since the police hadn't showed up yet, but Artemis was getting cold. As she walked back she pulled out her phone and shot off a text to both Bucky and Tony:

_You'll never guess what just happened, lol._

* * *

Back at the mansion, Maggie curled up with her phone and began reading up on Daredevil (and managing the series of overly-concerned texts from her brother and Bucky - apparently they didn't find the situation as funny as she had).

Maggie had kind of been aware of Daredevil in a peripheral way; she'd heard mentions of him since moving back to New York State (particularly in relation to her own vigilante actions), but hadn't really… thought much about him. Now she wished she had, because this dude was _awesome_.

Maggie watched grainy videos of Daredevil flipping and fighting, scaling the sides of buildings and taking down whole teams of men by himself. He'd once had a uniform of sorts too, a dark red outfit with _horns_ on the helmet. She read up on his history in the neighborhood, starting with his standard vigilantism and then his rise to take down none other than Wilson Fisk. _Twice._ Sure, not entirely by himself, but it was clear that his work in the shadows had helped those in more legitimate positions to put a stop to Fisk's corruption.

The guy was a little dark, sure, but it seemed to work for him. Though it was hard to get any kind of coherent information since the news was all muddy about him: all sorts of aspersions had been cast about his character and morality. Half the papers painted Daredevil as a violent unhinged criminal. But Maggie wasn't sure about that.

She leaned back on her couch, scratching Artemis's stomach idly, and chewed the inside of her cheek.

Finally she opened her phone again and texted Bucky:

_Hey, when you get back, how do you feel about joining me on a project here in Hell's Kitchen?_

His reply came almost instantly:

_I thought you didn't like the guy._

She smiled and texted back:

_I don't know, I think he's growing on me._

* * *

Maggie and Bucky began a very informal investigation into Daredevil. They mostly read the reporting on him during the day, and in the evenings explored the streets of Hells Kitchen, wondering if they'd run across the vigilante. They chatted with the locals too, trying to learn more: half of them loved him, half of them thought he was… well, the devil.

On their evening jaunts they went to a few bars in search of local flavor, and only got in fights in a few of them.

Bucky seemed bemused by Maggie's sudden fascination. One evening as they walked down a Hells Kitchen sidewalk in search of the devil or a nice bar, Maggie told Bucky he didn't _have_ to tag along with her.

"Nah, I'm invested in this now. I kinda like the guy, I think. The whole fighting for his neighborhood thing? I get it. And anyway, I have to make sure he doesn't fall in love with you and whisk you off to his secret base."

"Who's to say I'm not open to being whisked off?" Maggie asked with an arched eyebrow. She and Bucky were both in 'disguise' - he'd grown his stubble slightly longer and pulled on a baseball cap, and she'd done her makeup and outfit differently than what most people would consider her usual public image.

"Well that would be your prerogative," Bucky nodded sagely. "Though we haven't solved the whole is-he-a-psychopath thing, so you might want to keep that in mind. Oh, how about this place? We haven't been here yet." He pointed across the road to what was _probably_ a bar - it looked a bit dingy to be honest, with smudged windows and a bare metal door. The neon orange sign read: _JOSIE'S._

Maggie shrugged. "Haven't been kicked out of here yet."

"The last time was not my fault," Bucky insisted as he followed her across the road. "I don't know what it is, but whenever drunk guys recognize me they all seem to want to fight me."

"I can understand the instinct," Maggie told him, smirking. She pushed open the door to Josie's and they slipped inside.

The bar was surprisingly busy: all the tables and bar seats were taken, and still there were laughing, red-faced people standing in groups in the available space. The room was loud with conversation and clinking drinks. That was about the only atmosphere to be had; there was not much about the creaky floor, broken airconditioner or peeling beer stickers on the wall that Maggie found very compelling. A small group of people played pool at the table in the back.

Maggie and Bucky shared a glance, shrugged, and then went to order drinks from the severe-faced woman with wispy hair and a Harley-Davidson vest. She cast an appraising eye over them, frowning at the single glove Bucky wore, but said nothing as she plonked down their beers.

"Darts?" Bucky suggested. Maggie nodded eagerly - they usually waited a while in each bar before starting to ask questions about Daredevil.

For twenty minutes she and Bucky pretended to be bad at darts, laughing over their sloshing drinks and congratulating each other when they hit the board. Patrons streamed in and out of the bar: clearly this was a popular joint.

When it was time for another round, Maggie squeezed back through to the bar. A few feet away she bumped against a pretty blonde lady, apologized, but then froze as the lady went stock still, staring at her. _Hm._ Smiling casually Maggie pressed back through the crowd again and found Bucky.

"Someone recognized me," she murmured. Normally she wouldn't care, but if the whole bar started realizing who was here, that wouldn't be helpful for the investigation. "Off to the next bar?"

"The trials and tribulations of fame," Bucky sighed dramatically. She led him out by the elbow. "This is a _very_ professional investigation, doll."

"Shut up."

* * *

Karen pressed back to the table excitedly, occasionally glancing over her shoulder.

"Hey, where's our drinks?" Foggy protested when she got to the table, and Matt raised an eyebrow over his red tinted glasses.

"I think I just saw Margaret Stark," Karen breathed.

"What? Where?" Foggy stood up, peering.

Karen pointed. "She was just playing darts over - oh, she's gone."

Foggy settled back on his seat and cast Karen a dubious gaze. "Are you sure you saw her? Josie's seems a little below her price range. And when I say a little, I mean-" Foggy caught Josie glaring from the bar, and looked up at the ceiling as if he'd just spotted something fascinating.

Karen brushed blonde flyaways away from her face. "I'm positive! Her hair was different and she was wearing way different clothes, but…" she bit her lip. Matt sat silently, his work shirt rolled up to his elbows and his head cocked. Karen and Foggy both turned to him.

"C'mon, Matt, back me up. Use your super senses."

His eyebrows rose. "How would I be able to identify someone I've never met before?"

Karen threw her hands up. "The woman has metal on her bones, Matt, are you telling me that won't stand out?"

"Oh, right."

Matt ducked his head, concentrating. It still felt weird to discuss his enhanced senses with Karen and Foggy, but he was glad they were treating it like it was normal.

As he let his attention unspool throughout the bar he did notice something odd - but not metal bones. There was a man just outside the bar whose entire left arm seemed to be _made of_ metal. It sang against the inside of his sleeve every time he moved, just below the level of normal human hearing. His wrist twisted, and Matt listened to the whole arm _whir._

Matt's head cocked, and then he heard the man speak to the woman by his side:

" _Next bar, then. And not any of your dancing lady ones._ "

" _Not even for old time's sake?_ " Came the woman's teasing remark.

Matt focused on the woman, and noticed the faint clink of metal as she walked. Normally he'd guess metal-heeled shoes, but… his eyes widened. _Oh boy, that's a lot of metal._ Now that he was concentrating, the air around the woman tasted of metal: she'd left a trail of it through Josie's. One of her legs was a polymer prosthetic up to her knee, and there was some kind of technology against the skin of her back: billions of tiny machines, constantly shifting.

_This is bizarre._

Matt's brow wrinkled, and then he realized that something about this woman had sparked a memory. He took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Well?" Karen prompted.

Matt rubbed his forehead. "You're right, it's Margaret Stark. Metal on her bones, prosthetic leg, _weird_ tech on her back."

"Hah!" Karen whooped, throwing both fists up in the air.

"Also, she's with Sergeant Barnes."

Foggy made a high-pitched squeak. "Oh my god, really?"

"He's got a metal arm," Matt explained. "And a Brooklyn accent. Also, I think I saved Margaret Stark from a mugger last week."

"You did _not_."

* * *

After a few more nights with no leads, Maggie and Bucky stopped heading into Hells Kitchen. A day after that, Bucky got called back to the Facility for a mission, and took Artemis with him. Maggie was enjoying her time in the city, until news came in of Daredevil taking down an opiate ring working in Central Park, and she got interested all over again.

But this time she took a more targeted approach.

"Hey Spider-man," Maggie called from a rooftop in Queens when she spotted the red-uniformed Avenger swinging past one afternoon. Spider-man, at least, was a very easy vigilante to find.

Parker's head swivelled to spot her, his eyes widened, and in another second he'd flipped up onto the edge of her roof. "Ms Stark!" he exclaimed. "What's up?"

"Have you ever run across Daredevil? Black outfit, batons, beats up people in Hell's Kitchen?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the guy," Peter said breathlessly. He climbed off the edge of the roof to lean back against the railing. He pulled off his cowl and used it to mop his sweaty forehead. "We've met like, twice, but only in passing. I know that he patrols Hells Kitchen, so I normally don't go that way."

"Turf wars?" Maggie asked with a smile.

"Nah, I just know he's got it, you know? I'm glad he's there."

"Huh."

"Why do you ask?" Peter flopped down to sit on the concrete roof, still breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Maggie questioned.

"Oh, yeah, I just had to chase this dog a few minutes ago and it was _fast_. Like a racing dog, for sure. I got him, though."

Maggie's lips quirked. "Good job. Anyway, I guess I'm just curious. I don't think Daredevil's ever had any contact with the Avengers, but he's got skills."

"You want to recruit him?" Peter asked, squinting up at her.

Maggie shrugged. "We're not really _recruiting_. I guess I just want to chat with him, see what his deal is. What's your impression of him?"

"He's quiet," Peter said thoughtfully. Maggie thought privately that compared to Peter, most people would seem quiet. "But he's a good guy, I think. He gave me a lead about this guy selling exotic animals, once. But he's kind of annoying since he never really wanted to talk with me, and he kept telling me I was too young to be doing this-"

"You _are_ too young to be doing this," Maggie smiled.

Peter shrugged. "I guess. Anyway, other than that, there's not much more I can tell you. I guess he patrols a lot around the docks, sometimes?"

"Thanks, Peter." Maggie dug into her bag, pulled out a water bottle and a fruit roll-up and handed them to the panting teenager. "Here, take these before you head back out."

"Thanks, Ms Stark!" he said eagerly, already tearing open the roll-up. Maggie turned to the stairwell, but Peter called after her: "Hey, what will you do if you find him? Daredevil?"

Maggie shrugged. "See if he likes fruit roll-ups, I guess."

* * *

She asked around the other Avengers - no one knew much about Daredevil, since he'd been pretty under the radar. Steve knew the stories, since he was a New York local, but didn't put much stock in them.

"People treat him like he's superhuman, or otherworldly," Steve told Maggie as they foraged for snacks in the Facility breakroom.

"Well you and I both know that's not beyond the realm of possibility," Maggie countered. "Could he be enhanced?"

Steve shrugged. "He's a good fighter, I'll give him that. But I don't know. Why are you so interested, all of a sudden?"

Maggie scratched her head. "I don't know. Curious, I guess. Kind of feels like Daredevil might be one of us."

What Maggie hadn't expected from asking the Avengers about Daredevil was for Clint to absolutely fanboy over the vigilante.

"He's awesome!" he told her over the phone, his voice higher than she was used to. "I've been watching videos of him since right after the Battle of New York. He's a killer fighter, plus there's the parkour, and the suit he used to wear, and I've been around that neighborhood - it does need a lot of help."

Maggie grinned. "Want to help me find him?"

There was a pause over the phone.

Finally:

"Laura's going to kill me," Clint said. "Give me 24 hours."

* * *

Clint became Maggie's fellow Daredevil-investigator. They based themselves out of the Stark mansion and began properly casing Hells Kitchen at night. Clint brought a whole bunch of surveillance equipment (as well as his old Avengers uniform and his bow), and Maggie flew them from rooftop to rooftop, hunting for the elusive vigilante.

Bucky, who'd gone on an extended mission with Sam last week, seemed to find Maggie's accounts of her evenings with Clint hilarious.

Maggie and Clint did not find the vigilante.

"He's good at staying under the radar," Clint commented one evening as he perched on a rooftop, peering out at Hell's Kitchen with night-vision goggles. "Must be well-trained."

But though they didn't spot Daredevil, they did _hear_ about him. They got reports of places he had been, came upon the aftermath of crimes he had stopped, and listened in on the police chatter. The Hells Kitchen police had their own radio code for the vigilante, and they would radio it in with a resigned tone in their voices.

" _Yep, dispatch, just arrived on West 47th. I've got another 10-107, suspects are unconscious_."

"We were just _on_ West 47th!" Maggie said exasperatedly. "How did we not see anything?"

"Maybe he _is_ the devil," Clint said in a spooky voice. "Come on, let's go check out the crime scene."

* * *

Yes, Matt was aware of the winged woman and her smart-mouthed companion traipsing over Hells Kitchen in search of him. They were very hard to miss. Ms Stark's strange metallic scent hung on rooftops and in alleyways, impossible to miss now that he'd picked it up, and her companion kept leaving tiny cameras and microphones around the place that Matt either had to avoid or disable.

He didn't tell Karen and Foggy about it - they'd only worry, or try to help somehow, and he didn't want them anywhere near this. This was a Daredevil problem, not a Matt Murdock problem.

So he kept going on patrol, keeping his senses alert for his frustrating pursuers so he could keep well clear of them.

He didn't know why Maggie Stark was suddenly sniffing at his trail, and he didn't want to find out.

* * *

In the end, they didn't find Daredevil. They just happened to end up in the same place as him.

Maggie and Clint had been surfing radio channels, sitting in picnic chairs on a flat gravel rooftop and looking up at the stars, when a low voice issued from the radio:

" _Package confirmed for 0100, Pier 99. Stay sharp._ "

Clint and Maggie both sat up straight, frowning.

" _Roger,_ " said a different voice. " _Over and out_."

The radio channel faded into staticky silence.

"Well that can't be good," Clint said.

Maggie checked the time on her phone. "Whatever it is, it's in… five minutes."

Clint reached for his bow and quiver. "We better hustle then."

Maggie flew Clint down to the docks, they found Pier 99, and peeked out from behind a stack of shipping containers to see a whole bunch of armed men unloading heavy-looking cases from a ship under the cover of darkness.

"It's either drugs or guns. Bet you ten bucks it's guns," Clint whispered.

Maggie peered at the cases. "You're on. Shall we?"

"We shall."

Maggie gripped Clint by the back of his uniform and beat her wings, rocketing them both upwards as silently as possible. She dropped Clint on top of the shipping containers, offering him a decent sniper's nest, and wheeled until she was over the newly-arrived ship. For a few moments she watched the armed, rough-looking men unloading the cases in a well-oiled routine. None of them spoke.

Then Clint fired an explosive arrow that detonated on the pier a few feet away from the loading ramp. All the men turned, swearing, and Maggie used the distraction to drop down on deck. She landed behind two men carrying a case between them. Neither of them realized she was there until her metal-reinforced heel connected with their heads.

She made quick work of the ship. She darted for the helm first, where she took out the skipper and helmsman, then put her heel spike through the controls. _Boat's not going anywhere now_. Shouts and cries echoed from the pier as Clint fired down on the men there, followed by gunshots as they retaliated. The men still on the ship had realized Maggie was there, so she had to roll behind the stack of crates to dodge the sudden onslaught of bullets. The cases made a weird metallic pinging noise when they were hit. _Probably not drugs then. I owe Clint ten bucks._

She rolled out from her cover, wrenched the gun out of the closest man's hands and swung it around to connect with his temple with a _crack_. He dropped, and Maggie threw the gun like a javelin at the rest of the men on the other end of the deck. They scattered, and Maggie launched after them with her claws bared.

The men on the ship were at least _moderately_ skilled, not just brute hires, so Maggie had to put some thought into fighting them. She kept her guard up, and used energy bolts and her increased strength to get the advantage over them.

She didn't realize that Daredevil was on the pier until she heard a _splash_ and looked over to see one of the drug/gun runners gasping for breath in the disgusting river water. She glanced up just as Daredevil whirled out of sight, his fists clenched and his jaw tight with aggression.

" _You see our friend_?" Clint murmured into the comms, followed by the pull and _whisk_ sound of him firing his bow again.

"Yeah, I guess he got the tipoff about tonight's _package_ too," Maggie breathed as she leaped over one guy's head, headbutted the man behind him, then turned to slam her fist into the first guy's face.

She'd cleared the boat, so she vaulted off the ship and onto the pier. She fired an energy bolt at one guy who swung his gun to face her, then followed the sounds of shouting and fighting through the maze of shipping containers to find Daredevil, caught in the narrow space between two containers, fighting off ten men at once. For a second all she could do was stare.

Daredevil moved like he had eyes on the back of his head. There was no _front_ to his fighting: he delivered a devastating three-punch blow to one guy trying to pin him, followed by an unnerringly-accurate backwards kick that caught the guy behind him in the stomach. He flipped, kicked off the side of one of the containers, grabbed another guy by the head and used him as a fulcrum point to spin and slam both feet into another man's head. But then someone brought the edge of their gun down on Daredevil's shoulder, making him grunt with pain, and Maggie jumped into action.

Two of the men at the other end of the narrow space spun and began running, so Maggie darted forward and _shoved_ the corner of one of the shipping containers, sending it screeching around until the back corner hit the other container, blocking them in. Then she dove into the fight. Her first move felt a little like a dance: she spun low under a spray of bullets from a large, angry-looking man with a bloody nose, rose up to seize his arm and continued spinning, tossing him at two of the other men. They went tumbling like bowling pins, almost knocking over Daredevil - but Daredevil jumped agilely over them without even looking, and hurled one of his batons at the men trapped at the other end of the narrow space.

Maggie and Daredevil worked around each other as they dismantled the men between the shipping containers, not speaking. Maggie found a new appreciation for Daredevil's skills - he used moves she'd never seen before, moves she wasn't even sure she'd be able to pull off. His blows landed with devastating accuracy and power: bones crunched and men screamed as he worked through them. Maggie appreciated how he seamlessly adjusted to her joining the fight, too, since he didn't trip her up or try to attack men she was already attacking, he just used the distraction she added to his advantage. He tossed a few men her way, trusting her to deal with them.

Maggie swept her wing against the last standing man, knocking him into the side of the shipping container, then looked around to see Daredevil flipping over the top of the other container. "Hey, wait!"

She darted after him, but he'd apparently spotted (or heard?) another group of men attempting to flee by sneaking back onto the boat.

Maggie's hand flew to her ear. "Clint?"

"I've taken out the rest who tried to run, we're all clear on this end."

"Great, and…" Maggie glanced back at the ship to see Daredevil slam the last guy's head into the side of the helm. The guy crumpled at Daredevil's feet. "We're all done here."

For a few moments Daredevil stood, breathing heavily, his hands still clenched into fists by his sides and his mouth (which was the only visible part of his face) pressed into a thin line. Then his head swivelled toward the pier. He moved then, stalking across the loading ramp.

"Hey, man," Maggie called.

Daredevil didn't respond. He walked straight past her, each step measured and utterly silent, and Maggie followed a few paces behind as he rounded one of the shipping containers, grabbed one of the stirring drug/gun runners by the shoulder, and dragged him roughly against the side of the shipping container. The man yelped as his back clanged against the metal, and his eyes widened as she looked into the half-disguised face of the devil.

"Who's buying the guns," Daredevil said flatly. His voice was just as low and dark as Maggie remembered. And also - _guns_ , Maggie internally groaned. _Stupid Clint and his stupid ten dollars._

The dark haired man pinned against the container drew in a shuddering breath. "I don't-"

_Slam._ Daredevil shoved the man against the shipping container so hard his head bounced off the metal. Maggie didn't flinch, but her brows did rise.

Maggie looked up at the sound of footsteps to see Clint strolling up, his bow slung over his shoulder. "Hey, Daredevil," Clint said lightly, nodding at the crouched vigilante. "Sorry for crashing your thing, but we-"

"Not interested," Daredevil grit out, his attention still focused on the cowering man. "I need to question this man. You should go."

Maggie cleared her throat. "Or we could help."

Daredevil stiffened and his head tilted further into shadow. "Why."

Maggie shrugged. "You helped me. I was a dick about it and I feel bad, Also we're kinda curious about you."

"Guilt and curiosity are not very good motivators."

"But they're the ones we've got," Clint piped up. "I'm very good at interrogations, if you must know. And that guy" - he nodded to the dark haired man, who listened to their conversation with an open mouth - "isn't lying about not knowing the buyer. But he _is_ hiding something."

"I know," Daredevil said in that same gritted tone.

Maggie paced forward until the man in Daredevil's grip could see her. "Alright, go on," she said, raising her eyebrows at him. "You may as well tell us what you know, you've gotta realize you're outmatched here. And I'm not going to stop this guy from knocking your block off if you lie."

The man's eyes darted between the three of them: Maggie with her arms crossed over her chest, Clint unsheathing knives from his holsters and squinting at the blades' sharpness in the lamplight, and Daredevil's careful, furious stillness. The man swallowed. Then he began to talk.

Their snitch gave up the seller; a weapons manufacturer working out of Connecticut with contacts all along the east coast. Apparently all the men here this evening had been hired by a third party 'private security' firm, so they had no real connection to the buyer. Daredevil listened with utter stillness, moving only to tighten his grip on the meat of the man's shoulder or to tilt his head, as if to get a better look at the man. Maggie and Clint hung back, occasionally sharing glances.

Finally, when the man stuttered out the last that he knew, Daredevil paused, considered, then slammed the man's head back into the shipping container and let him crumple to the ground.

Daredevil stood in one smooth movement, his back still turned to Maggie and Clint. His head cocked. "Police should have arrived by now."

"Wouldn't surprise me if an outfit like this had a way to keep the police from sniffing around this area for a few hours," Clint guessed.

"I can contact them, get them to come round this lot up," Maggie offered. She pulled out her phone and began texting F.R.I.D.A.Y. "You're going to have a job investigating that third party security firm," she said as she typed.

Daredevil turned slightly. His face was still cast in shadow, but Maggie and Clint could see the grim line of his jaw and mouth. "What do you want."

Clint rolled his shoulders and yawned. "A warm bath."

Daredevil tensed even further, which Maggie wasn't sure was even possible. "I know you've been following me."

Maggie sighed. "We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. But we - I - just wanted to chat with you because… you've been fighting so hard and so long to make your neighborhood a safe place." Daredevil stilled. "And I want you to know it doesn't have to be a lonely task."

Clint nodded. "The Avengers are based not too far from here, and a lot of us have connections in the area. We can offer you all kinds of back-up and help if you want it - medical, financial, legal" - Maggie thought she saw Daredevil's lips twitch - "and anything else you might need. We've got a similar deal with Spider-Man over in Brooklyn."

Daredevil did not reply.

"Okay," Maggie said. "We'll back off, but would you just…" Maggie reached into her back pocket. "Would you take this?" She handed over the card she'd written on earlier, in hopes of leaving it somewhere Daredevil would see. Handing it directly to the man himself was much better.

For a moment she stood there, card outstretched in the cold air, as Daredevil stood half-turned away. But eventually he turned fully and reached out to take the card in his black-gloved fingers. He looked down at it for a few long, silent seconds. Then the card disappeared into the pockets of his combat trousers.

Seconds later Daredevil disappeared too, slipping around the corner of the shipping container and sprinting into the darkness.

"Bye!" Maggie shouted. She had not expected a response, and she did not get one. Police sirens began to wail in the distance.

"Normally meeting new super people gives me a headache," Clint said. "But he seems alright."

Maggie let out a sigh. "I think I owe you ten dollars."

* * *

The next day at the Nelson & Murdock Law Firm, Foggy and Karen perched on the main desk as Matt recounted the events of the previous night. Matt reclined in a chair in the corner, turning the small paper card over in his fingers. His shoulder still felt tender from the fight last night, and he kept going back to that strange conversation with Ms Stark and Hawkeye, considering their words.

"... and then she gave me this card," he said, holding it up.

"What does it say?" Foggy asked. Matt could tell his eyes were wide.

"I don't know."

"Oh, right. Give it here?" Foggy hopped off the desk and walked over to take the card from Matt. "It's handwritten."

"I can smell that-"

"Gross."

"What does it say?"

Foggy cleared his throat. "It says _Dear Daredevil, call this number if you'd ever like help_." Foggy dictated the number to Matt, who input it in his phone. "It finishes with _From, Maggie (and the Avengers_ )."

Karen made a _hmmm_ sound. "Is it weird for you that she's got the same name as your mom, Matt?"

He scowled. "No. It's weird that they hunted me down in the first place and now want me to… what, rely on them?"

Foggy shrugged. "Honestly it sounds like they want to give you a support network, Matt. Better than stitching yourself up or getting Claire to do it, or trying to do everything by yourself. This way if you come up against something really big like" - he very pointedly did not say _the Hand_ \- "Fisk, you can get help with it. Plus, this way you're basically an Avenger!"

"I am not, Foggy," Matt sighed.

Karen cocked her head. "You save people, you wear a costume-"

"I don't wear the costume - uniform - any more," Matt argued.

"But you _do_ have super-senses!" Foggy said excitedly. But then he sobered. "All I'm saying, Matt, is maybe this isn't a bad idea. Finally you've found some people who want to help you, instead of bash your head in. In your line of work, that's got to be pretty rare."

Matt bowed his head, thinking.

Karen nodded. "I think it's nice of them. Just… think about it."

Matt held his hand out for Ms Stark's card, then stuffed it back in his pocket. "Fine. I'll think about it." He stood up. "Now let's get back to the Lurhmann case."


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little later than I meant to post it, I've just started my teacher training and I've been slammed!

Three weeks later, the Nelson and Murdock team dressed in their finest clothes and shared a cab to the New York Defence Lawyers Association Annual Convention.

"We don't get to go to many fancy parties!" Karen exclaimed as they walked in to the ballroom hosting the event, where a chandelier glittered over a wide space filled with tastefully decorated tables. A pianist and violinist accompanied the low hum of conversation.

"It's not really a party," Matt muttered. He didn't much like conventions like this, there were too many people in too confined a space, it was overwhelming. "More of an excuse for shameless networking."

Foggy clapped a hand on Matt's shoulders and then darted sideways to grab some canapes from a passing waiter. "We're relying on shameless networking tonight, buddy, there are all kinds of investors and fancy rich people here who we have to convince to give us cash."

Matt groaned under his breath. But he knew Foggy was right, so he sucked it up and followed his friends to their table. They'd dressed the part, and looked pretty good - well, Matt assumed. He and Foggy had brought out their 'fancy suits', and Karen was wearing a dress made out of some kind of shimmery, satiny fabric and she'd spritzed on a nice-smelling perfume.

The night wore on, in glasses of champagne and conversations with lawyers and business owners _much_ richer and more important than Matt and Foggy. They ate the too-expensive dinner and watched as various awards and acknowledgments were given. Karen turned out to be a lifesaver: she turned on the charm, telling potential investors about the success of _Nelson & Murdock _and inviting them to speak with Matt and Foggy.

The convention was also a nice opportunity to speak with lawyers they'd met at school or in the courtroom. Matt and Foggy steered a wide berth away from the _Landman and Zack_ sharks, though.

Karen wandered over from a discussion with an investment firm to find Matt and Foggy laughing with an older man wearing glasses and a friendly smile. "Hello, boys," she said, easing into the conversation.

"Karen!" called Foggy, as if he was surprised to see her. He gestured toward the man, and Karen noted his suit was _very_ expensive. "This is Diego Martinez, he was one of our guest lecturers at Columbia. One of the best in the game. Diego, this is our office manager Karan Page."

"Yes, I-" Karen cut herself off from saying _I've seen you before_ , since lawyers usually got squirrely when she told them that she used to report on their cases as a journalist. "I'm really pleased to meet you," she smiled, holding out her hand.

Martinez shook her hand with a knowing look. "A pleasure. As I was saying, Matthew, I really do appreciate that you've kept up your study of Spanish in order to communicate better with your clients, there are shockingly few good Spanish-speaking attorneys in this city."

Diego and Matt began continuing their conversation in rapid Spanish, and Karen shared a glance with Foggy.

Foggy shrugged. "They always do this. Surprisingly I have not been praised for my grasp of the Punjab language."

"Shocking," Karen laughed under her breath. She leaned in a little. "Is, uh, this a potential investor?"

Foggy tipped a hand. "Kinda. Diego's got his own firm, _Kemp & Martinez_, he's got good connections and he looks out for clients and stuff for us where he can. He does a lot of pro bono work in the area, so our clients often have a lot in common."

Diego's eyes drifted across the room as he chatted with Matt, and suddenly he gave a wide smile. "Ah, I was hoping to introduce you to my friend and she's just arrived. _Cielita_!"

Karen looked over her shoulder to follow Diego's gaze, and her mouth dropped open. Beside her, the breath left Foggy's chest in a rush.

Margaret Stark, wearing a sleek silver dress with her dark hair pinned up on top of her head, had been accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter when she heard Diego's call. She turned, eyebrows raised, and when she spotted Diego her face broke into a brilliant smile.

Karen only just had time to realize that Matt had frozen before Margaret Stark hurried over.

"Diego!" she exclaimed, beaming as she leaned in to kiss Diego on the cheek. Diego smiled indulgently at her, as if she was a favourite grandchild. "I never thought I'd find you in this crowd. Where's Andrea?"

"I'll never doubt your skills," Diego smiled. "Andrea bowed out of this evening, she hates these things. No dashing beaux on your arm tonight?"

"He hates these things too, maybe it's a family thing." Her eyes glinted. "He's back at home with the dog and a book about the space race."

Diego chuckled, then turned so he was facing Matt, Foggy, and Karen again. If he'd noticed that they'd all frozen where they stood and were staring, he didn't say anything. "Maggie, I would like to introduce you to-"

"Oh you don't have to tell me," Ms Stark grinned as her dark eyes flicked over them. Matt tensed, one hand tightening on his cane. "I know you guys, you're the legal firm that took down Fisk! Twice! It's my pleasure to meet you." She reached out a hand to Karen first. "Karen Page, right?"

Karen blinked, but reached out on instinct and shook Ms Stark's hand. "Nice to meet you," she almost whispered.

"And… Foggy Nelson," Ms Stark continued, offering another handshake. Foggy shook Ms Stark's hand without taking his eyes off her face. Karen got it. She might have spotted Ms Stark in Josie's bar a few weeks ago, but that had felt different. Seeing her tonight, in a beautifully tailored dress with her prosthetic leg and back tattoos on full display felt slightly like meeting royalty.

Ms Stark turned again, and Matt stuck out his hand without being prompted. "Mr Murdock," Maggie smiled.

They shook hands, and Matt felt all the strength Ms Stark was holding back. Up close the metal in the air around her tickled his nose, and he kept getting distracted listening to the strange technology on her back. His own heart pounded. _Does she know?_

Introductions complete, Ms Stark folded her hands in front of her and eyed the small law firm. None of them seemed very able (or willing) to speak, so she cleared her throat.

"Look, I'm going to be totally upfront and also admit that I read some of the stuff you wrote about my trial, Ms Page."

Karen blanched, and Ms Stark held up a hand.

"I'm not saying that to alarm you, I actually wanted to thank you. You were very fair, and measured. Plus my lawyers" - she leaned to nudge Diego affectionately - "said that your press probably helped my case a great deal. So thank you."

"Oh," Karen said. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I, uh, I'm glad you think so. I got in a few fights with my editor over your story, actually."

Ms Stark raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes, I… He always said I was kind of paranoid, though he thought it was a good quality. I didn't really trust the story the government was spinning. And then I was there in the courtroom and…" Karen's eyes very abruptly stung with tears and she bit down on her next words. She didn't know quite how to say _watching you testify damn near broke my heart._

Ms Stark's smile turned soft. "I read your reporting," she said, though Karen knew what she meant was _I heard you when you said you were on my side, and it meant the world._

"It is very nice to finally meet you," Karen said, rallying, even though Foggy was shell-shocked and Matt seemed to be grinding his jaw. "And… I know this really isn't the event, but my old editor will kill me for not asking, would I be able to interview you some time?"

"Sure," Ms Stark said easily. "I'd like that." Her head cocked. "As long as you let me shamelessly talk up my various projects."

Diego laughed. "Well, I hadn't expected you all to know so much about each other, perhaps you'd better introduce me!"

Ms Stark smiled at him. "Diego. Thank you."

He shook his head at her. "I called you over, though, because I thought you might be interested in talking to the _Nelson & Murdock _team about your nonprofit." He tilted his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, right!" Ms Stark sipped her champagne, then turned back to the trio, apparently not put off by the fact that two of them had hardly spoken a word. "I've started up the Astraea Foundation in conjunction with a few law firms, it's essentially a collective of legal representatives who would be willing to stand up for people failed by the system in various ways, pro bono."

The three of them listened politely as Ms Stark told them about her organisation. Karen absorbed the facts as a journalist, but the reporter in her also took in the way Ms Stark's eyes lit up as she talked about the work Astraea had already done, and where she hoped it would lead. She hadn't seen this enthusiasm in the Wyvern trial courtroom, which made sense, but it was still strange to see this side of the fugitive-turned-Avenger.

Finally, Foggy found his tongue. "So… it kind of sounds like you're looking for people on the plaintiff's side of the courtroom, rather than the defense," he pointed out. "We're defense lawyers."

Ms Stark grinned at him. "I don't know, I think there's always a place for a good defense lawyer." She nudged Diego, who smiled fondly. "Astraea would also be available to victims who find themselves in the defense seat. I'm actually working on a collaboration with the Innocence Project."

Foggy frowned. "So… you're offering to keep us on retainer for something we're already doing? Defending the innocent?"

"Exactly," Ms Stark said smoothly. "Your firm seems to have a pretty good track record for identifying those who really need and deserve help. That seems like a useful set of skills for Astraea. You would, of course, be compensated for whatever percentage of Astraea clients you'd take on, be remunerated with up-to-date legal resources, and occasionally participate in interviews to boost the exposure of Astraea _and_ your firm. I'll send you the billing sheet of course-"

"Thank you for the offer, Ms Stark," said Matt in a clipped voice. "We'll consider it."

Ms Stark's eyes focused on Matt. It was clear from his tone and the look on his face that the conversation was over. Her eyes flicked to Diego, who looked put out, and then she smiled. "Of course. Enjoy the rest of the party." And with that, she and Diego wandered away, no doubt to find more potential Astraea law firms.

Karen turned on Matt. "Why did you have to chase her off?"

Matt's brows lowered. "Are we sure she's here for _us_?"

"What, you think she recognized you?"

Matt considered. Unless she was a _very_ good liar… and he'd been zeroed in on her heartbeat ever since she walked up. "Probably not. She's never really seen my face. But she clearly knows Nelson & Murdock have _some_ connection with Daredevil, if she's researched the Fisk case."

Foggy frowned. "So what, you think she invented a whole nonprofit just to talk to us?"

Matt went silent.

Karen sighed. "Look, you said she and the other Avengers have backed off the past few weeks. This could honestly be a coincidence, Matt."

"Hm."

Foggy cracked his knuckles. "I'm going to go back and charm her. We're getting that contract."

Matt hesitated for a moment, his brow still lowered, before he sighed. "Fine." He didn't follow Foggy.

* * *

Two weeks later, Matt found himself slumped behind the bolted door of a warehouse basement, wincing at the sounds of shouts and thuds on the other side, as blood pulsed from a bullet hole in his shoulder.

He slid his phone out of his pocket.

After hitting the unlabelled number, the phone rang twice before:

" _Hiii, Carlie May here_!"

Matt frowned, then realized that he'd just called the probably very secure phone of an Avenger from an unknown number. He shifted, and grunted when his shoulder throbbed.

"It's me," he said. "Uh, Daredevil."

The fake voice dropped. " _You sound hurt_ ," Ms Stark replied. " _Where are you_?" She didn't ask if he needed help, because the fact that he was calling was answer enough.

"Warehouse on 36th and 10th," Matt told her. He kept half his attention on the gunrunners on the other side of the door, and let out a low hiss when he heard them discussing a plan to go get tools to dismantle the door. "Five stories, armed guards on every entrance, you can't miss it. I tracked the buyer of that shipment last month to this place and I might've…" he gritted his teeth. "I might have bitten off more than I can chew."

" _Are you still in the warehouse?_ " He could hear her moving on the other end of the line, and once or twice a muffled whisper as if she were talking to others.

"I'm locked in the basement," Matt admitted. "Got hit, managed to bolt myself down here. There's no other exit. And I'd estimate I have…" he cocked his head, concentrating on the rushing bodies through the building. "Maybe fifteen minutes before they get in."

" _I'll be there in ten. Stay on the phone_."

"Okay," Matt breathed. He wasn't used to this; aside from the brief stint with Jessica Jones, Luke Cage and the kid who called himself Iron Fist, he wasn't accustomed to teamwork. Normally he got himself into situations, then figured out how to get himself out of them. But he couldn't see much of a way out of this other than hoping he could fight off whoever burst through that door when it inevitably came down.

He took in a deep breath, centring himself. He'd already considered all his options in this basement - it was just a wide, empty space, nowhere to hide.

His attack plan for tonight had been to slip past all the guards and confront the buyer directly in his office, but he hadn't accounted for the fact that they apparently had motion sensors on every corridor. He'd gotten sloppy.

There were a few more whispers over the phone, and then abruptly a rush of wind, as if Ms Stark had started flying. " _Talk to me, Daredevil_."

"Right. There's fifty two personnel in the building, and eight others who I believe are undocumented immigrants who've been hired to file the serial numbers off the weaponry. My intention was not to harm them, it sounds like they don't have a lot of choice to leave."

" _Smart_ ," said Ms Stark in an even voice. She didn't question how he'd gotten his information. " _Describe the buyer?_ "

"I didn't get in far enough to confront him, but I know he's late forties, wearing a suit, strong cologne, metal inserts in his shoes." He hoped she didn't ask what color his hair or eyes were.

" _And your condition?_ "

Matt dropped his head back against the door, and regretted it when someone on the other side slammed an axe against the hinge, rattling his brain. "I'll survive."

" _So not good, then._ "

Ms Stark kept Matt on the phone as the minutes ticked by. He gave her all the details on the warehouse and the best entry points, and tried to keep his increasing dread out of his voice. He couldn't help but listen in on the plans to dismantle the door and tear him apart. They'd brought levers, a laser cutter and a grinder down and were currently bringing them all to task on the groaning metal door. Matt had shuffled away from the door, seeking some cover against the adjacent wall as sparks flickered through into the basement.

" _We're almost there, Daredevil,_ " came Ms Stark's reassuring voice in his ear. " _You just stay safe and we'll_ -"

With a shrieking groan and a _snap_ the left-hand door sagged inward, letting in a rush of fresh air and bullets.

"Gotta go," Matt said into the phone, then tossed it aside.

Matt waited for the initial deafening volley of bullets to subside, and gave the men on the other side about thirty seconds to doubt themselves:

"Maybe we got him?"

"Are we sure he's even in there?"

"I saw him run in there myself, he's gotta be hiding-"

Then Matt vaulted over the half-fallen door and slammed his feet into the closest man's chest. The others shouted in surprise but recovered quickly, swinging their weapons up and firing. Matt dropped, and barely had a moment to feel an ounce of satisfaction when the close-quarters shooting resulted in two of them going down with new bullet-holes. Someone swung their boot into his face and he rolled, swearing, until he had enough floor space to surge upwards and slam his forehead into someone's chin.

His head echoed with shouts from all directions. The stairwell was cramped and loud with gunshots and yelling and Matt's own fast breath. He swung at the nearest gunrunner and then surged upwards, fighting for more space. A bullet sliced through the air by his cheek, suddenly crystal-clear, and he seized the nearest item - a diamond-edged circular saw - and hurled it backwards to gain enough cover to dive out of the mouth of the stairwell and onto the next floor of the warehouse.

It wasn't any safer here. The air rippled with gunshots, and the hot, sweating bodies of his pursuers surged after him, making his gut fill with panic. He ducked and rolled, using the metal-reinforced containers on this level for cover. This was the main room of the warehouse, stretching five stories up to the ceiling, a massive space at the heart of it all. He could sense every man in the warehouse running for the source of renewed commotion, guns loaded. He'd never be able to fight them all in an open place like this and they'd covered each exit, he had no way out-

The roof burst open.

Matt didn't know how he hadn't noticed the Wyvern, the Winter Soldier, the Falcon, Iron Man, Hawkeye and the Black Widow on the roof. He blamed it on being rather distracted with the dire situation _inside_ the warehouse, but there was no missing them when an explosion tore the roof open and they all dropped inside, blazing with bullets and bolts of energy that scorched the air.

For a moment, Matt slumped against the container he'd been hiding behind. Every gun in the warehouse swung upward and began firing on the Avengers, who descended on the gunrunners with frankly terrifying efficiency. Matt focused on the sleek and devastating way Ms Stark's wings sliced through the air, used for flying and for fighting; on the impenetrable Iron Man suit with the sleep-rumpled man inside, on Hawkeye's arrows soaring across the warehouse and finding targets Matt hadn't even noticed.

Matt caught his breath, pushed away his pain, and got to work.

It didn't take long, once the others had shown up. Matt fought alongside the Avengers, holding his own despite his bloodloss and non-powered-ness. He trusted the Winter Soldier and the Falcon to catch the buyer, who was fleeing out the south exit, and turned his attention instead to taking out every single gunrunner in the warehouse. He darted across the warehouse floor under the swooping, scorching Wyvern and Iron Man, flipped over containers without fear of Hawkeye's arrows, and when he dropped down from a container to take down a knot of men with the Black Widow, he sensed her eyes fall intense and focused on him.

Matt drove his fist into a large, snarling man's face, made sure he dropped, then turned to find - nothing. His senses darted, starting close before expanding outward, but he couldn't feel a single gunrunner left standing in the warehouse. He could hear the sounds of banter and the _click_ of reinforced cuffs as the Falcon read the buyer his rights two blocks away. The other Avengers stood on the warehouse floor, talking in low tones and glancing around the space.

Matt drew in a long breath, and bit back a groan as his injuries made themselves loudly known. The bullet hole in his shoulder pulsed a steady stream of blood into his dark uniform, he was pretty sure his nose was broken, and there was something not right with his knee, but he felt too dizzy and bruised to concentrate on it.

"... Daredevil?"

His head jerked up to the source of the voice, and he realized Ms Stark had landed and was talking to him. Her wings were gone, vanished back into the strange tattoo on her back, and her heartrate was remarkably steady.

Matt tried not to sway.

"The warehouse is clear," Ms Stark told him. "We got them. Now I know you're nervous about trusting us, but I think it's a good idea for you to come - Daredevil?"

Matt opened his mouth, intending to say _thank you_.

"He doesn't look so hot," came Tony Stark's voice, filtered through the helmet.

Matt frowned, trying to think of how to respond to that. But then he felt a sudden rush of movement, as if the world were spinning all around him, a second later there was a brief spike of pain as his shoulder hit some kind of surface, and then nothing.

* * *

Matt opened his eyes when he woke up. More out of habit, since it wasn't like having his eyes open changed anything, but the moment they opened he felt sensation rush back in.

"Agh."

He should've been used to waking up to pain at this point. His shoulder throbbed, his ribs ached, his whole _face_ pounded with pain. He shifted, and his body seemed to find more places to hurt. And yet from experience, he knew that he should probably be in a lot more pain than this. But it felt dulled slightly, giving him room to draw in a full breath and put a few thoughts together.

 _I've been medicated_.

A worrying thought. He drew in two deep, steadying breaths, then considered his surroundings.

He lay on a bed with crisp white linen like hospital sheets, with a pulse monitor clamped to his finger, and an array of machinery to his left. But this was no hospital: though the room smelled sterile and was packed with medical equipment, beyond the room Matt could sense carpets, wooden walls, corridors empty of people. More like a house. A _big_ house, he reflected, as he let his senses wander.

He touched his shoulder, and found a compression bandage over the bullet wound. That realization sparked more: his other wounds had been treated too, cleaned and dressed, and there was a small bruise in the crook of his elbow, where he must have had an IV or a blood transfusion. He drew in another long breath, gauging how dizzy he felt. He didn't feel as woozy as he normally did after being shot. _Blood transfusion, then_.

Matt groaned and reached up to gingerly probe his nose, only to find that his mask was still pulled over his face. He hesitated.

" _Good morning, sir_."

Matt flinched so violently that the bed frame creaked. There wasn't anyone else in the room, that would have been the first thing he noticed, so how-

" _There's no need to be alarmed. I am F.R.I.D.A.Y., an AI designed by Tony Stark._ "

Matt stilled, listening to his pounding heart on the heart monitor. "I-" his voice cracked. "Where am I?"

" _You are in Stark Mansion, in New York City._ " Matt screwed his eyes shut. " _How do you feel_?"

Matt didn't answer the bodiless voice. His mind was racing. _Stark Mansion._ Who knew how many people had seen his face while he was unconscious? Sure, his mask had been left intact, but he'd been completely at their mercy. _Stupid._

" _Ms Stark wishes to reassure you that your identity remains anonymous_." Matt froze. Was the AI a mind-reader? " _She was sure you would be concerned upon waking, so I have been advised to inform you that the Stark Mansion on-call doctor and nurse did not see your face while treating your wounds, and that they are bound by the strictest of NDAs._ _The Avengers who transported you to the Stark Mansion medical facility also did not see your face, and have not been in to this room except to ensure your continued health and safety._ "

Matt let out a long breath.

" _There is a change of clothes in the cabinet to your left_ , _and if you follow my directions to the rear driveway you will find a self-driving sedan with blacked-out windows, which will take you wherever you wish to go, and the location will never be recorded._ "

Matt's eyebrows rose. How long had Ms Stark been planning for something like this?

" _Your cell phone - which you will also find in the cabinet - rang seventeen separate times last night before it lost battery, but we have not interfered with it in order to maintain your privacy_." Matt closed his eyes. Foggy, Karen. They knew he was going to the warehouse last night. F.R.I.D.A.Y. paused a moment, before adding: " _If you wish, if you are ever unable to answer your phone in a similar situation in future, I can send an information alert to a trusted person of your choice_."

Matt sat up, groaning. The AI didn't tell him not to, so he climbed out of the bed - testing his weight on his knee first - then limped over to the cabinet and started getting changed. They'd provided him with dark trousers, a t-shirt and a hoodie, as well as shoes that were more or less his size, and a baseball cap. He tucked his dead phone in the pocket of the hoodie.

"Is Ms Stark here?" he asked the empty room.

" _Ms Stark is in the east wing of the mansion, and does not intend to come out until after you have left_."

Matt frowned, getting his bearings and then casting his senses outward. The mansion sprawled over a rather large plot of land, so it took him a moment to find Ms Stark. She sat in a room that felt like an office of some kind, and after frowning at another source of movement Matt realized she had her dog with her. The same dog she'd had the first time they met, the one with three legs.

He hesitated. "How do I get to the east wing?"

F.R.I.D.A.Y. paused a moment, as if she were a real person considering his request, before calmly giving him directions.

Matt limped through the corridors of the mansion, sliding his hand over the wall to stay upright. The place was nice - he felt warm rays of sun on his face as he walked by the windows, and breathed in the calming scents of wood, clean carpet, and freshly-cleaned linens. He walked past the library, with its trace of old paper and whiskey.

When he reached the east wing, he paused outside the closed door of the room Ms Stark occupied. He could sense her inside, tapping at her phone, with a lukewarm cup of coffee on the side table beside her. The dog was belly-up on the floor, snorting.

He reached out to knock on the door.

Ms Stark's head jerked up. "Uh… if that's who I think it is, then I should let you know that I'm… in here?" The dog rolled onto its three legs and came over to nose at the door.

Matt let out a breath through his nose. "You know who I am, don't you."

There was a long pause. Her heart rate spiked. "Not if you don't want me to."

He sighed. "How did you find out?"

"I've been trained in covert operations since I was five. You get good at picking apart disguises. If it makes you feel better though, I didn't figure it out until the phone call last night. You weren't able to disguise your voice as much."

"And you weren't going to… say anything? Confront me?"

"It's pretty clear you value your privacy."

Matt opened the door. Ms Stark still sat on her leather sofa chair with her feet tucked under her, and she took in the sight of him in the doorway, wearing normal clothes. He'd noticed she hadn't provided him with glasses or a cane - she'd been pretending not to know who he was.

"Mr Murdock," Ms Stark said evenly.

"Ms Stark," he acknowledged. The dog sniffed at his shoes, nosed at his knee (the good one, thankfully), then walked around behind him to stick its head between his legs.

The corner of Ms Stark's mouth ticked up. "Call me Maggie. Are you feeling okay?"

He took stock. "I've had worse."

"Well that's alarming to hear."

It was his turn for a ghost of a smile to cross his mouth. "Thank you, Maggie."

"You're welcome."

He took a few steps into the room, fighting back an eye roll when the dog followed and stuck her head between his legs again, looking up at him.

"That's Artemis," Ms Stark - Maggie - told him, with a hint of a smile in her voice. "I think she remembers you."

Matt wasn't good with dogs. He looked down, scratched the dog's head for a second, before straightening and facing Maggie again. "You're not going to ask about the…?" He gestured to his face. His eyes were uncovered, and he was pretty sure he was looking in Maggie's direction, but it was pretty obvious his eyes couldn't focus on anything.

"I thought it might be rude," she responded, then made a gesture with her hand which got the dog to slide through his legs and go to her side. "I am incredibly curious though."

Matt smiled, took a breath, and then gave her a short description of the accident when he was a kid, how he experienced the world, and the training he had received. She asked a few questions, mostly about the extent of his enhanced senses and about Stick, and seemed mostly enthusiastic about his abilities. It was by far the least stressful explanation he'd had to give about it all so far.

"Well," Maggie told him eventually. "My offer of any help you need still stands, and I can make F.R.I.D.A.Y. available on your phone if you'd like. I also want to iterate that this" - she gestured between them - "will have no bearing on my professional relationship with Nelson & Murdock."

"Thanks," Matt said. "Karen and Foggy know about the whole… thing, but they'll be glad you're still working with us."

"Of course. Do they know you're okay?"

He thought again of the seventeen missed calls, and stiffened. "Uh, no. I should probably go."

"Don't forget your free car ride!" she reminded him. "It was lovely to see you again, Mr Murdock."

He turned to leave, then hesitated. "You can call me Matt."

"Matt," she said, and he knew she was smiling. "One of these days you'll have to let me introduce you to Clint and Bucky, they're desperate to hang out with Daredevil."

Matt looked over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.

Maggie shrugged. "It's a man thing, I think. They like the parkour."

Matt laughed under his breath. "Thank you, again. Bye, Ms - uh, Maggie."

"Safe travels."

* * *

Foggy and Karen were waiting at his place when he got back, frantic with worry. He calmed them down, reassuring them he was fine (he'd get to the gunshot part later), and once the panicked tone had left their voices he told them about the night and morning he'd had.

"So you _are_ an Avenger now!" Foggy exclaimed from where he sat on Matt's couch.

"No," Matt said, quick to nip that in the bud. "I just have… a professional agreement with them. Sort of. Who knows if Ms Stark speaks for all the Avengers."

"Her brother is Iron Man and she's dating the Winter Soldier, I'd say she's got a lot of sway," Karen said.

"So you're an _associate_ Avenger," Foggy clarified.

"Fine, yes," Matt sighed. "Can we please go to the office and get to work?"

"Uh, no," Foggy said, "You're injured, and we're going to be talking about this all _day_." He paused. "So do you think you'll get to meet Sergeant Barnes?"

"Or the Falcon?" Karen added, her voice suspiciously neutral.

Matt's head dropped between his shoulders and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose - then regretted it when he remembered his nose was broken. He looked up, feeling his friends' excitement sparking in the air around them like a physical presence. He thought of last night, and how unlikely it had looked that he would even live to see today, let alone be more or less in one piece and with his identity (mostly) intact.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "We'll see."


End file.
